


Opposing Counsel

by Imagining_in_the_Margins



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Angry Sex, BAMF Spencer Reid, Enemies, F/M, Hate Sex, Lawyers, Love/Hate, Rival Relationship, Rival Sex, Rivalry, Rough Sex, Self-Insert, Semi-Public Sex, Sex, Shameless Smut, Smut, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-27
Updated: 2020-10-27
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:02:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,419
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27219097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Imagining_in_the_Margins/pseuds/Imagining_in_the_Margins
Summary: Spencer runs into his childhood rival at trial for a case. Now that they’re older, they found a new way to resolve their differences.
Relationships: Spencer Reid & Reader, Spencer Reid & You, Spencer Reid/Reader, Spencer Reid/You
Comments: 6
Kudos: 132





	Opposing Counsel

No matter how much time I spend in courtrooms, they have never felt comfortable. They are, by nature, brimming with the worst kind of energy. It is impossible to not feel the pain that flows from all of their openings, and the way the walls scream with the combative words in proverbial fights to the death. Or, in some cases, literal fights to the death - just like the one I was currently winding up.

“You may read the verdict.”

When the judge gave the instruction, I didn’t look at the jury. I didn’t need to look at them anymore because their sympathy from this point on was useless to me. They had already made their decision, and I was confident it would be the right one.

It was.

“We, the jury, find the defendant not guilty of murder in the first degree by reason of insanity.”

“So say you all?” The judge drawled as almost imperceptible whispers spread through the courtroom like a virus.

“Yes, your honor.”

Those whispers, the blend of the extremes of the spectrum of human emotion, haunted me every day. I heard them any time my brain tried, although you wouldn’t know from looking at me. Lawyers have to be heartless, you see. There is no other way for the system to work. We must defend the evil and the cruel, just in case they are innocent. And if you have a job like mine, then you have to force yourself not to care even if you know they aren’t innocent. The law doesn’t punish criminals; the law punishes those who get caught in a web they cannot wiggle free from.

My job security will always be bad timing, bad people, and law enforcement’s penchant for overzealousness. Any agent who pretends like their ineptitude isn’t responsible for the freedom of bad men is a liar. It is the kind of lie that will burn like acid that leaks from your tongue and fingertips. That’s why lawyers like me have built a layer of callouses and scar tissue, so that when they spew their venom, it doesn’t hurt like it should.

Spencer Reid already knew this about me. He was a profiler, after all. He had to know about the dynamics of defense attorneys and what is required of our psyches. Not only did he know that this was true because of the fact that I sat in front of him and behind the defendant’s table, he knew this because the two of us were far from strangers. I’d known him all my life, and not much had changed about my psychology since we’d seen each other last.

Spencer Reid knew I was a heartless bitch, but that didn’t stop him from leaning over the bar separating me from the spectators and whispering, “Do you have any idea what you’ve done?”

“Yes,” I whispered back, not letting him see the smile that took over my face, “I’ve won.”

“Court is adjourned.”

———

My office received a call the next morning that didn’t surprise me in the slightest. He introduced himself as an old friend who was looking to make an appointment to see me. Despite not having an availability, I told my secretary to schedule time for Spencer on my lunch break. While some might believe I made that decision because it was my only free time, that wasn’t the main motivation. I chose lunch because the other employees wouldn’t be there.

Sure enough, when 12:30pm finally arrived, so did Spencer. My door was already open when I saw him with my secretary who seemed puzzled by his appearance. I don’t think she’d been expecting a sweater vest and converse. But I was. It seemed so perfectly suited for the naive boy I remembered.

“Hello, Dr. Reid. You can lock up when you leave, Jess.”

Sensing the tension in the room, she quickly followed my advice. I heard the pattern of shutting doors until all that remained was the soft creaking of the floorboards as Spencer approached me.

“This room suits you.”

I didn’t look up from the files I was arranging. I knew there would be a catch to his statement. He wasn’t complimenting me, because he didn’t do that. It was going to be an insult, and I wasn’t going to entertain the idea that it would catch me off guard. My plan to irritate him was already working. I could feel the anger like spikes reaching through the space between us.

“Nice to see you haven’t changed,” Spencer sneered. “Still a cruel, heartless bitch that only cares about stroking her own ego.”

“Oof. Such harsh words from the sweet little baby,” I laughed. I still hadn’t met his eyes, although he couldn’t seem to take his off of me. “Is someone still mad about yesterday?”

Spencer’s hand grabbing the file in my hand and shutting it made it difficult to ignore him. It was a bold move that admittedly impressed me. I knew my smirk would give him satisfaction, but I flashed it to him, nonetheless.

“He’s going to spend the rest of his life locked in a mental institution, drugged into compliance, just so you could get your not guilty verdict.”

The eye contact between us was bristling with so much hostility that it almost felt like I was back in the courtroom. Except Spencer wasn’t a client or the opposition in the usual sense. Standing from my seat, I walked around my desk until I stood next to him.

“Oh, you know what, you’re right, 187. I should have just let you guys murder him yourselves. Silly me!” I mocked with a ditzy, playful tone that strongly contrasted the topic of conversation. But if he wanted to act like I was an airhead, I’d give him a little show.

Spencer didn’t like my theatrics. He swiftly stepped forward until he could feel my body heat. If he expected me to cower and retreat, he was mistaken. I quite liked the proximity; it made it easier to meet his eyes. I could read everything from that position.

“He murdered innocent people,” Spencer said through clenched teeth. He missed the point, as usual.

“And he’ll pay for it,” I not-so-kindly reminded him, “Just not with his life!”

The rage was evident in every inch of him. Even a fool would be able to tell that Spencer wanted to break me. But there was something else in his eyes, too. A darkness not related to the man whom neither of us would ever see gain.

“God, you’re so fucking ignorant,” he muttered, raising his hand to run it through his hair. I don’t think that’s what he wanted to do with it, though. If my suspicions were correct, and they usually were, he wanted to use that hand on me.

“Don’t get too excited now. You might give yourself away,” I teased as I closed the gap. It was for two reasons— mainly to test out my theory and derive new evidence, but also just because I thought it might be fun to touch him.

I was right about both things. I knew because the holster on his hip wasn’t the only bulge that pressed against my stomach.

Spencer eventually deduced my motives, or at least I’m assuming that was the reason he let himself touch me. Granted, he only did so to shove me back. There wasn’t the faintest glimpse of regret or sympathy in his eyes when I stumbled back in my heels, or when I hit the wall.

“You think you’re so clever,” he muttered, fixing his sleeve that had been disturbed by the action. And although it had been his decision to build distance between us, he closed it shortly after.

When he didn’t come close enough for my preferences, I grabbed his tie and pulled the fabric taut. He didn’t move, preferring to let it dig into the back of his neck over giving me what I wanted. I bit down on my lip to try and stifle a giggle, but he still heard it.

“What’s funny about this to you?” His tone, while stern, wasn’t as devoid of emotion as he might have hoped.

“Nothing. It’s just... you know, Rule 1.8(j) of the Model Rules for Professional Conduct only prohibits sexual relationships with a client,” I explained with a cheeky little shrug. “It doesn’t say anything about the opposing party.”

“You’re a terrible lawyer,” he deadpanned.

I couldn’t disagree. I didn’t even try; I accepted the conclusion openly in my mockery. “And I still beat you. How does that make you feel?”

The distinct sound of grinding teeth hit my ears, and my eyes followed the flow of tensing muscles in his jaw. It was strange, seeing him in short bursts every few years. Each time, his face seemed sharper and colder. I wondered if he thought the same about me. In fact, I wondered a lot about how he saw me. In part because of moments like this, where an obvious tension flooded the room.

What he wanted was obvious enough in the erection he sported, but I didn’t know _why_ , and the thing about lawyers is that we really love those technical details. And what better way to find the information I sought than a few interrogatories?

“Does it make you want to hold me down and punish me?” I asked, mostly just to see his reaction. When he didn’t give me enough of one, I continued. “To force me to beg?”

His feet faltered instantaneously at the suggestion, and he stepped forward like my hold on the tie was suddenly too much for him. I hadn’t pulled him any differently than before; he just wanted to come closer to me.

“Do you want to fuck me, Spencer?” I cooed.

I wanted a response, and a response is what I got. Spencer raised his hand again, and this time he didn’t stop it from touching me in the slightest. Despite the fact that I was already against the wall, he pressed his hand flat against the top of my sternum and pressed me impossibly closer to it.

“Shut up,” he growled in such a low register I almost didn’t recognize his voice. 

“That’s not a no,” I laughed, the feeling reverberating through his hand that tried to stop the air from returning to my lungs. If it was meant to stop me, it had the opposite effect. I’d never wanted to goad him on more than I did in that moment.

“Do it, you fucking coward. Fuck me like you’ve only dreamed about.” I said through teeth clenched just like his. When he bowed his head forward and our noses touched, the words continued to fall from my lips with a renewed vigor. “Show me what pathetic things you think about doing to me when you’re alone at night.”

My voice was steadily climbing in volume until I was shouting in his face. Even through the forceful words, I felt his breath on my lips. “I want to hear you scream my name the same way you do when you have your hand down your pants, begging me to help get you off!”

I’ll never know whether it was the volume or the content that broke Spencer’s resolve, but as soon as the last breathless word left my mouth, he forced his lips against mine with enough force that, despite my resistance, my head smashed into the wall behind me.

I let Spencer kiss me as hard as he wanted for approximately 10 seconds. I granted him the smallest win so that when I did finally kiss him back, he’d already exhausted half of that pent up rage. Sure enough, the sudden response from me shocked him enough that he opened his lips, granting my tongue access.

I was a little surprised when he didn’t bite me, but he didn’t. Instead, he just let the kiss devolve into the filthy mess it was always destined to be. His hand on my chest slid up over my neck to hold my jaw up to him, and I gave myself permission to touch him back. Judging from his startled reaction, I don’t think he expected me to immediately grab his dick, but he really should have.

The jump was enough for him to break the kiss and look at me with eyes displaying a very satisfying desire.

“How long have you wanted to do this, 187?”

He paused just long enough to lick his lips at the sight of me biting down on my now bruised bottom lip, but then had the decency to remember that he hated me.

“You know my name, bitch.”

The lovely nickname paired well with his hand forcing its way under my skirt. A low moan rumbled through my chest, and I didn’t bother hiding any sign of my own eagerness. It would have been pointless, considering how quickly he hooked two fingers under my underwear and pulled it to the side.

“But it sounds so nice,” I sighed, retaining my eye contact as I recalled the first time I’d beaten him at something. “Go ahead, try calling me 188 and see how it feels.”

Spencer decidedly did not like that taunt, although two his fingers roughly entering me gave me a bit of a conflicting signal. I could barely care about his response as he started to thrust into me. My head hit the wall again as I lost myself in the feeling that I could only get with him.

“Keep it up and I’ll leave you right here,” he muttered, his lips ghosting over my ear, “dripping wet and begging me to fuck you.”

The parallels to my theories about the contents of his fantasies were not lost on me. I was sure that in his mind, he was winning. He thought that he was turning me into a pathetic, compliant little thing. But in reality, he was giving me everything I wanted. Normally, knowing that I was the one in control would be enough for me, but this time I wanted him to know. I wanted to rub it in his face that even with his fingers steadily pumping into me, I could beat him.

I would _always_ beat him.

“I bet you’re good at it. Have to compensate for the score difference, no?” I teased between heavy breaths.

Spencer immediately removed his hand. I’d expected as much but didn’t regret my decision. Especially not when those fingers forced their way into my mouth. If I were a betting woman, which I usually am not, I would wager that a large part of him regretted not tasting me himself. To prove to him that this was still the correct decision, I closed my lips around the already soaked digits and worked my tongue between them.

“You think you’re so fucking cute, don’t you?”

Shoving them further into my mouth and holding my tongue down, he continued to spit vitriol-laden words directly in my face. “I don’t know why you even bothered studying anything. You were made for this. You look so good with my fingers down your throat.”

I wanted to laugh, but a moan shook around his fingers, instead. It would work well enough for my purpose, considering it made him smile.

“Bet you’d look even better with something else there.”

The second he voiced my own thoughts, I sprung into action. My hands must have been quicker than he thought they would be, because he looked down at the commotion to find that I’d already undone his belt. He unfortunately didn’t let it go any further.

“How very unbecoming of you,” Spencer chuckled. Removing his fingers from his mouth and pulling his hand from my sternum, he took a step back to look at the state of me, my skirt still bunched up at my hips and my chest filling with the air he’d deprived me of. 

Then, with a slight pout, Spencer just shrugged.

“I changed my mind,” he said as he started to walk away. “Clearly you aren’t good at this, either.”

For a moment, I almost let him leave. But then I realized that if he left, I would only partially win. While he wouldn’t get to have what he really wanted, he would have had my submission. And if I was going to leave this encounter with less dignity, I might as well get some sexual gratification.

“Worried you won’t be able to satisfy me, _Dr. Reid_?” I called, dragging out his name with his favorite little honorific.

Spencer froze mid-step. I could actually see the tension hit him, and I watched with glee as he let it slowly wash away. Glancing over his shoulder, his eyes shamelessly still fell to my exposed thighs. His thoughts were so apparent, his desires so suffocating in their flagrancy.

“You talk too much for your own good.”

“That’s still not a no,” I sang.

He tried not to show it, but a playful glint appeared in his eyes and in the shine of his smile. As if to wave a white flag, Spencer turned back and began approaching me, this time slowly and with purpose. When he was back in arm’s reach, he didn’t stop. He pressed his body against mine again and I basked in the warmth of winning.

“Give me one reason I should give you anything that you want.”

Then he touched me with no violence. His fingers drifted up my neck and under my chin, lifting it to force me to look up at him no matter the height difference. All he wanted was my neck bared to him, granting him even the faintest hint of dominance in this encounter.

I could lean into that. A little bit, anyway.

“Because you want it even more than I do,” I said with shaky breath. It was obvious that he didn’t believe me, and I was growing impatient at his own insecurities. Allowing my legs to fall open, I hooked one around his to pull him closer.

“Yes, that is me admitting that I want it.” I said as clearly as I could. When he still showed hesitance, I went straight for the kill. He would consider it a win, but I would just consider it leverage.

“I want you, Spencer.”

Watching his pupils blow wide at the sound of his name on my tongue was far more gratifying than it should have been. Thankfully, he didn’t gloat for long. He had better things to do with his time, like attaching his mouth to my neck and covering it with open-mouthed kisses.

While his hands quickly undid the buttons on my blouse, I finished what I’d started earlier. It was such a blur, an organized chaos of buttons and zippers that ended with us both significantly more exposed in more way than one. After all, we’d spent so much of our lives as outright enemies. Opposing parties unwilling to meet in the middle.

But when we did finally meet, with Spencer lifting me by my hips against the wall and slamming into me with full force, it didn’t feel like losing at all. There was a surprising familiarity in his embrace. There was something quite like winning in the sound of his groan in my ear. A pride in the knowledge that he’d found pleasure in the person he wanted to break.

“Fuck, Spencer,” I purred, my arms wrapping around his head and bringing his lips back to my jaw. My hand on his neck felt the hair rise and the skin become rough with goosebumps at the way his name sounded that time in the throes of passion.

“Shit,” he eloquently replied. But that wasn’t his only way of answering; his pace became just a little bit quicker, and my hips rocked in tandem with him. Spencer was slurring a number of hushed curses against my neck, and I didn’t bother trying to decode them.

Not like they were sweet nothings— and if they were, I definitely didn’t want to hear them. My eyes were set on one goal, and one goal only.

“You better let me finish. I’m not here for altruistic desires.”

Spencer laughed at the suggestion, taking the brief pause to readjust his grip on me. That action alone, the sudden pull of gravity causing him to bottom out inside me, was enough to tear moans from me.

“Let you?” Spencer mocked, running his nose over the side of my face before he growled, “I planned on making you.” With his new hold on me, he followed through on that promise. Each time our hips crashed together, I heard the precarious tapping of the diplomas and certificates hung on the wall. If they fell and broke, it would have still been worth the mess.

“Oh, God,” I whined, my nails digging into his neck and scalp as I struggled to keep up with the way his body moved. I would have never thought he would be the better of us when it came to physical activity, but there I was, shaking like a leaf in his arms. 

“It’s okay. You can admit how good I make you feel,” Spencer mocked with an obvious amusement in my undoing. But, in his typical fashion, he wanted to parade that joy so that I couldn’t ignore it.

It almost hurt, the way his fingers gripped me with crushing force. Almost, but not quite. It was the perfect amount of pain to knock me onto the edge, and I stayed there for a moment with my mouth hung open, taking hungry gasps of air. I wanted to say his name, but I couldn’t. Everything was nonsense in my mind that was focused only on what he was giving me. That smug bastard knew it, too.

“Say my name so everyone can hear, _Miss 188_.”

With his permission, my body called for him in desperate, keening cries. And then I couldn’t stop, his name flowing over and over from my lips in a way he would probably never grow tired of. He had stopped kissing me, focusing all of his attention on fucking me through my orgasm and watching my face as he did.

I didn’t even mind the way he looked at me like I was nothing without him. It almost felt like that in that moment, like I would fade away without his hands holding me down. Once I did return to Earth, and my senses, I scoffed at the goofy grin on his face.

“Fuck you,” I muttered.

“You already are,” he responded without his smile changing at all. There were worse things to look at, I suppose.

Normally I would have grown tired of waiting at that point, having gotten what I came for. But somehow Spencer kept me interested, and within seconds, I felt the familiar tension building again. However, it became obvious just as quickly that he wasn’t going to last that much longer.

And honestly? I didn’t hold it against him. I would take the frustration of an incomplete orgasm. He’d already given me one more than most men would. But apparently, that wasn’t enough for him. Because we both knew I would be capable of giving him one, and that would make the score a tie.

We didn’t like ties. Someone had to win. Spencer wanted to win— _badly_. I could feel as much in the way his hand came to where we met, slipping in the mess of our arousal just to find its way to my clit.

“W-What are you doing?” I asked even though I knew the answer.

With a wild look in his eyes and between heavy breaths, Spencer said through that same fucking smirk, “ _Winning._ ”

I hated the way it worked. That stupid, smug bastard got what he wanted almost immediately, my body betraying my own sense of self-preservation and throwing itself at his mercy. Still, I couldn’t bring myself to regret it. How could I? He looked so fucking beautiful with his head thrown back as he lost himself in me. The feeling of his arousal spilling inside of me and filling me like this body belonged to him was one that would burn into my brain. Like Spencer, I would never forget the way he looked when we fell apart together.

But when his hips finally stilled and his head fell forward onto my shoulder, we remembered the truth. There was nothing to like about one another besides the fight. This battle was over, and it had been won. I wouldn’t admit it, but Spencer took the victory by a landslide. Surprisingly, though, he didn’t gloat or force me to admit it.

No, with an insane amount of tenderness, he looked me in the eyes and asked, “Are you alright?”

“…What the fuck did you just say to me?” I barked back with furrowed brows.

“I asked you if you’re alright,” he repeated, not at all catching the hint. So much for thinking he was clever for like, two seconds.

“Do not get sentimental on me right now, 187, or I swear to god I’ll expose you to the world.”

Then, all at once, we were back to the way we’d been before.

“Yeah, you’re fine.” Spencer drew his arms back and let me fall. I barely avoided a sprained ankle by grabbing hold of the shelf beside me, and I swear I heard him laugh at how badly my legs were shaking.

While the two of us tried to compose ourselves, we barely looked at one another. Every now and then, our eyes would meet in quick glances. It wasn’t exactly awkward, it was just that we didn’t have anything to say that hadn’t already been done. By the time he opened the door, I felt a smile creeping over my lips at the newly formed memory. It could have gone poorly from that point on if we’d let it.

But I decided that I wasn’t done playing with Spencer Reid.

“Hey, Spencer,” I called just before he turned the corner and left my sight. 

“What?”

“Call me later.” The instruction left no room for protest, and he didn’t seem to have any. It did, however, call for an explanation that I was happy to give. “I have a few other arguments that need to be won.”

Spencer’s nose scrunched as he tried to hide the pleased smile that I definitely saw.

With feigned indifference, he answered, “Fine.”


End file.
